


Funny How It's: DC

by CasualThursday, funnyhowthatis, National_Nobody, potooyoutoo



Category: DCU
Genre: Awkward Dates, Crack, Father-Daughter Relationship, Guns, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasualThursday/pseuds/CasualThursday, https://archiveofourown.org/users/funnyhowthatis/pseuds/funnyhowthatis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/National_Nobody/pseuds/National_Nobody, https://archiveofourown.org/users/potooyoutoo/pseuds/potooyoutoo
Summary: So, potooyoutoo, National_Nobody, and CasualThursday have long rejoiced in the DC fandom. Sadly, our beloved funnyhowthatis never quite jumped on that bandwagon. As a result, funnyhowthatis has been subjected to years worth of intense debate and discussion of the vast collection of DC characters with little to no context for who they are and what they do.Knowing this, we (potooyoutoo, National_Nobody, and CasualThursday) decided to issue funnyhowthatis a Challenge (TM): write a few short DC fics based on prompts made up by us.The results are as follows.





	1. a Gloomy day in gloomy!gotham

**Author's Note:**

> Round 1:
> 
> Prompt: Wally visits gotham and runs out of foooood (dates w dick) - CasualThursday and NationalNobody

It was a gloomy day in Gotham when Wally ran into town, with Dick riding on his back, their preferred method of transportation. Much cheaper, and plus, Nike sponsored Wally’s running shoes. Because Wally is the flashiest flash that ever flashed.  
  
However, there was one drawback to this. Stretching on the streets of Gotham, Wally let out a long sigh. “I'm _starving_.”

“You didn't bring any food?” Dick was hard to read, with his low gruff voice. It was possible he was furious. It was also possible he was amused. It was also possible he was in love with Wally. Well, that much was true at least.

“Where would I have kept the food? I couldn't bring a backpack with you on my back!” Dick raised his eyebrows. “Okay, okay, let's go to the store before we fight the evil bad guys.”

“I have a different idea.” The look he gave Wally was one he had clearly practiced in a mirror--a look of intrigue and mystery, the slight tilt of the head that flattered his well defined jawline. Dick was proud of this look.

Wally suddenly felt nervous. Butterflies. Traveling at the speed of light in his stomach. Well, that was how hunger usually felt to him, but this time he was sure it was different. Was it Dick’s piercing green eyes, reminiscent of Harry Potter, or was it that jawline. Or was it his hair, gently blowing in the bursts of air from the subway grates. The city suited Dick, Wally decided. “Another - um, another idea?”

In one swift move, Dick pulled off his civilian clothes, reveling a skin tight superhero outfit, and, in his hand, a small box of dates. He knelt on one knee. “Take one.”

Wally carefully selected a date and bit into it, his eyes never leaving Dick’s. “It's so good, this is the -” but something hard inside the date stopped his words, and it wasn't a pit.

He spat the hard object into his palm. It was a ring, a simple but elegant ring.

“Dick…”

“Thank Batman you chose that one,” Dick said, grinning, but still mysterious. “Well, what do you think?”

Wally turned as red as a speeding bullet. “Well, you've made me the happiest super hero person in the world.”

“Good. Now let's go fight some bad guys.”

Off they walked, holding hands, the ring shining on Wally’s finger. They would fight many bad guys that day. And win.

The end.


	2. the joys of Fatherhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round 2:
> 
> Prompt: Lian (baby roy) painting their nails - CasualThursday, National_Nobody, potooyoutoo

“You know...I’ve always liked guns.” Jason cocked one eyebrow, mysteriously.

“That’s interesting because, well, you know, I myself quite like….arrows.” There was no subtext here. They most definitely did not mean anything than what their words referred to. And as they both approached each other, the distance between them shrinking, their hearts beating faster, and--

“Dad! Time to paint nails!”

Jason and Roy rolled their eyes.

“Let’s put a pin in this, okay?” Roy said softly, under his breath.

“Or, an arrow?”

“Oh, Jason, you are too clever.”

“Nails! Now!” Lian dragged Jason and Roy to the couch, seeming to not notice the mood lighting, the candles, the 90s slow jams playing in the background. She picked ten different colors of nail polish, intent on painting each finger a different color, so that her dad and his friend (his close friend? His _really_ close friend? Well, his bedtime friend -- she may have been only five, but she knew what was what) would match.

“Lian, I asked you to paint my nails red!” Roy was not a fan of the light blue, dark blue, light sparkly blue, and green that she had started with.

“But Daddy! Everything you own is red. Even your underwear. And you won’t let us get anything that isn’t red! So I’m not giving you any red nails.” This was all true. The couch they were sitting on was red, as was the rug on the ground, as was the wooden coffee table next to them -- it had been painted sloppily red by Roy himself. Even Lian’s toy telletubbies were painted red -- the three of the four that were not originally red, he had dipped in buckets of red paint. Lian was not happy when she returned home from kindergarten one day to find this. And she remembered his exact words when she had confronted him about this -- “Let’s just stick to toy Elmos from now on, it’s easier, okay?”

“Jeez, I just, I like red, okay?” Roy mumbled.

Roy’s first coat of (not red) nail polish was done, and Lian instructed him to be still as it dried while she moved on to Jason.

Jason, a realtor in new york city and who couldn’t really be trusted to --  
  
Terribly sorry, wrong Jason. Clerical error.

Anyway, this Jason perhaps could also not be trusted. While not a realtor in new york city, his job could be considered very high stakes. In his free time, he went down to his dark secret chamber, where he kept his favorite guns. There, he would stand and stare at them lovingly. He really, really liked guns.

Which is why when Lian asked him for a tissue to clean up a little bit of spilled nail polish, he fumbled through his bag, taking out three small guns and one rather large one, before finally taking out a small pack and giving it to Lian.

“I’m pretty sure this is a box of bullets.” She frowned at him.

“Oh, yes. Yes it is. Here I’ll take that back. You know, I really do like guns.”

“I know.”

She knew.

Finally, he found tissues that were definitely not weapons of any kind, and gave them to Lian, and then the nail painting continued.

Jason was not as good a sport as Roy was. He did not have the patience that Roy had, and the joys of fatherhood did not come as naturally to him. He would much rather be a father to, well, his room full of guns.

He let her paint his nails, but not without a lot of “ugh”s and eye rolling, all mysterious of course.

Lian looked at the finished product: two super hero men, one a father like figure, the other, questionable; two sets of two hands with many colored fingernails, and one ever extending frown spreading across Jason’s face.

“Well, now I guess you can go back to whatever it was you were doing!” And with that, Lian ran away.

Does having your nails painted by your daughter or your superhero bedmate’s daughter count as a mood kill? Well, they considered this, looking at their nails, and back to each other. The candles had all gone out but the 90s slow jams were still playing in the background (they had been playing in the background this whole time - hm, how strange).

“Jason, I don’t know if I can do this. It’s just too...colorful,” he shuddered, looking at all of his non red fingernails.

“Well, I seem to recall a jar of red paint on your bedside table. Shall I...paint your nails red?”

Roy smiled. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

Indeed, he would like this very much.

**fin**


End file.
